


Day Off

by mightbeanasshole



Series: Better Luck Next Time (Call Boy AU) [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Rimming, bottom!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeanasshole/pseuds/mightbeanasshole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: "Hell yeah smut prompts! Raychael with bottom!Michael?"</p><p>PWP Raychael one-off. Set in the same universe as "Bets Are Off" but takes place before Michael meets Geoff.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Hell yeah smut prompts! Raychael with bottom!Michael?"
> 
> PWP Raychael one-off. Set in the same universe as "Bets Are Off" but takes place before Michael meets Geoff.

“So what do you think?”

It’s been a slow afternoon and Michael is practicing poses in his new lingerie, twisting this way and that in the mirror. Ray and Michael often pass lazy days together when neither has a call scheduled.

Sometimes it means playing video games or reading magazines out loud to each other. Sometimes Ray convinces Michael to listen to a record with him. And sometimes, when it truly becomes clear that neither one is going to get a call, it ends with the two of them in bed together.

Jack doesn’t exactly discourage it, but he’s never happy when he walks into one of their rooms to find that both of his top producers are otherwise engaged.

“What do you mean, what do I think?” Ray asks after a moment. He’s splayed across the end of Michael’s bed, in underwear and the shirt he slept in, distracted with a game on his phone. “You look hot--you always look hot.”

“I mean, you’re the in-house expert on panties,” Michael says, turning to Ray. “I want your opinion.”

“You look good in everything, dude,” Ray says, flipping to his side, putting the phone down. “It’s kind of fucking annoying, actually.”

“I feel like there’s no room for all my goods,” Michael says, breaking out of a pose and tugging on one edge of the black panties.

“That’s the beauty of it,” Ray says.

“Do you think johns will like it?”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Ray says. “I can’t imagine going to unwrap a package like yourself, only to find all this underneath.”

Ray pushes himself off the edge of the bed, joining Michael at the mirror. Michael smiles at him lopsided as Ray slides his hands down to Michael’s hips to fiddle with the lace at the waistband of the garment.

“Sometimes I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve all this for free,” Ray says, kissing the crook of Michael’s neck. “But god bless you, Past-Life Ray. You must have been a good man.”

Michael spins in Ray’s grip.

“So the panties are good,” he says, dropping his eyes.

“You start wearing them on calls and your schedule’s gonna fill up real quick,” Ray says. “You won’t have time for me.”

Michael chuckles under his breath as Ray plants more kisses into his neck, his hands dipping to cup Michael’s ass through the thin, soft fabric.

“Just be sure you remember the little people, once you make it to the big leagues, Michael,” Ray says into his neck. Michael rolls his hips into Ray and the other man squeezes his ass.

“You don’t have any calls coming up?” Michael says softly, lapsing into his sweetest voice involuntarily. He loves it a little too much when Ray wants him.

“Fuck a call,” Ray says, lips soft against Michael’s neck. “I’ve got money. I'll go call Jack right now and I’ll book you.”

Michael chuckles again, walking Ray backwards towards his bed. Ray spins him at the last minute, backing Michael up until he falls onto the comforter. Michael pushes his way up onto the bed and watches Ray as he climbs up, stripping off his thin shirt dramatically, the beginnings of a hard-on against his boxer-briefs.

Sessions between the two call boys are always sweet and authentic, both men relieved to be having sex rather than crafting a performance. It’s quieter than normal. Slow and real.

Ray pins Michael with his hips against the other man’s hips. They’re evenly matched and it’s a nice change from the ever-changing lineup of johns who are hairy, bigger, pawing at Ray and wanting to fuck him this way or that--nice to be with Michael instead. His planes of smooth, dramatically pale skin that always somehow smell so nice. His hair neatly trimmed and sparse. His narrow hips and neat muscles flexing under Ray.

Ray appreciates every inch, starting at Michael’s collarbones, laying soft kisses. Michael responds not with the open moans he’d give his clients but with a soft hum, with a gentle stroke through Ray’s cropped hair. Ray stops at one of Michael’s nipples, dark pink and hard, and lavishes attention on it--soft, short strokes. There’s no biting with the two of them, no need to suck hickies on one other.

Finally he returns to Michael’s mouth, kissing him deep, enjoying Michael’s soft, generous lips, the way the other man opens his mouth easily to receive him, the taste of spearmint. Their glasses click together then, Ray’s wire-rimmed frames clacking against Michael’s plastic horn-rims, and they both crack smiles, scrambling to discard the glasses.

With their glasses safely on the nightstand, Michael reaches up to grab Ray’s hips, hooking his hands into the waistband of Ray’s underpants and tugging them down. He smiles down at Michael, kicking out of the garment, and then draws a hard breath, feeling his cock against the silky fabric of Michael’s panties. He’d almost forgotten.

He grinds into Michael a few times, appreciating the sensation, before he makes his way down, taking his place between Michael’s knees.

Ray can’t avoid the impulse to rub his cheek against the fabric he finds there. He reaches a hand up to fondle Michael through the fabric and makes a mental note to ask Michael where he’d gotten the garment. It’s black and silky with lace touches at the waist and leg openings--not too over the top--and might make a nice departure from the gaudy and frilly lingerie Ray is infamous for. Michael’s earnest moans bring Ray back to himself as he strokes his friend through the fabric. He mouths Michael through the silky layer and Michael bucks up slightly to meet his mouth.

Neither man is in the mood for teasing, though, and Ray gently pulls the panties off, Michael hooking his legs up to free the garment.

Ray’s hand immediately finds Michael’s cock.

“In answer to your earlier question,” Ray says, smiling and gently stroking Michael, “those are great. That’s my professional opinion. Wear panties always.”

Michael chuckles, his eyes half-closed with pleasure.

Ray takes his place between Michael’s legs again, licking a stripe from the base of Michael’s balls to the head of his cock. Michael hums soft and appreciative above him, and Ray takes his time, giving equal attention to his shaft, his balls, all of the sensitive spaces inside of his thighs.

When Michael’s panting reaches a measured rhythm, Ray plants a final kiss on the base of his cock before grabbing Michael’s hips, trying to lightly tilt the angle of his pelvis. He’s not strong enough to move Michael as much as he wants, though, and he frowns.

“Toss me a pillow,” he says, and Michael passes one down to him. Ray doubles it over, pushing it under Michael’s hips. “Better,” he says, and Michael puffs out a small laugh though his nose.

It gives Ray easy access to his ass--an area of Michael that is no less magical than the rest--always perfectly waxed and receptive. Michael is the most enthusiastic recipient of rimming that Ray’s ever encountered, and this afternoon is no exception. Michael is breathing harder before Ray even gets started, just out of anticipation, and it’s hard not to tease him when Ray knows how much he wants it. He kisses up and down--across Michael’s ass cheeks, at the crease where his legs meet his ass, the sensitive skin behind his balls--before gently spreading him to lay a dry kiss on Michael’s hole. Michael lets out a long sigh in the air above him.

Finally Ray lays a long, generous lick against him, and Michael moans, low and inadvertant, his whole body responding to the pleasure. Ray licks patterns into him, using every angle of his tongue to explore every inch he can get access to, Michael falling to pieces on the bed above him. He’s moaning like he’s coming apart at the seams, and Ray would almost believe it’s an act if he didn’t know Michael so well. But the porn-star levels of moaning and begging are legit, Ray knows, and as Michael starts to talk to him, his own hard-on throbs.

“Oh, Jesus Ray, Jesus,” Michael says. “God, you’re the fucking best, that feels insane, fuck, Ray.”

Ray stops to lick a fingertip, tracing Michael’s hole, and the other man squirms under him, his obscenity increasing. He pushes the finger, soft and shallow, into Michael.

“Fuck me, Ray, please,” Michael says. “Please fuck me, Jesus.”

“In a minute,” Ray says. “Where’s your lube?”

Michael twists under him, flopping over inelegantly to dig for lube in his nightstand. Ray smiles, hiking himself up to kiss Michael’s exposed lower back, his ass, before Michael flips back over. He tosses an absurdly large bottle of lubricant down to Ray. The thing has a fucking pump on top.

“This is new,” Ray says. “Do you take this to appointments now? I’m sure the pump really sets the mood.”

“Don’t pretend you’re surprised,” Michael says frowning and squirming under him. “Shut up and fuck me. Please.”

Ray presses the pump and it releases a ridiculous amount of lubricant into his palm.

“I hope you have towels handy, jesus christ,” Ray says. He coats two fingers with it, slathering the rest on Michael, before pressing a finger into him. Michael is warm and pliant, arching up into the touch.

He teases Michael open easily, the other man relaxed and receptive to his touch. Ray leans up to kiss the base of Michael’s cock before pressing in a second finger, Michael moaning and humming into the air. Ray knows Michael won’t be satisfied with finger-fucking for long, and his own erection is aching as he licks up and down Michael’s shaft, pumping his fingers gently.

“Please Ray, fuck,” Michael moans. He pushes himself up to his elbows to watch Ray mouthing his cock, his brows knit together and his eyes barely open now. “Don’t make me beg you.”

Ray disengages with an absurd “pop” and smiles at Michael, giving him one last stroke before sliding his fingers out and shimmying further up the bed.

Michael reaches up, hooking his hands under his kneecaps and watching Ray. It’s a beautiful sight, Ray thinks, Michael so pale and flushed, his cock hard and laying across the skin of his belly. He portions out another pump of lube and sits back on his knees, stroking himself to the sight, ready to come just like that. But Michael wants to be taken care of, and Ray is happy to oblige.

He sits forward, hand at the base of his cock, and presses slowly into Michael. The other man lets out an enormous sigh of relief, smiling up at Ray.

“Jesus, Michael,” Ray chokes out, the warmth and tightness of the other man overtaking all of his senses. He lets himself fall gently across Michael’s torso, catching himself on his elbows as their lengths of warm skin crash together. He slowly strokes into Michael and it feels like every part of him is wrapped up in the other man, his skin, his smell, Michael tilting up to catch him in a kiss, humming into Ray’s mouth. Michael licks up into his mouth as Ray rocks gently into him, Michael becoming more pliant under his strokes. And after a moment, Michael is digging his heels into the mattress, pushing up to meet Ray.

Their lovemaking is quiet and understated, the simple enjoyment of two people who are too used to performing.

And after a few moments of sweating and panting together, Michael is smiling up at Ray.

“Let me get on top, Ray,” Michael says. “Please?”

They tumble over easily, Michael rolling so that he’s on top of Ray, and they scoot together back to the center of the bed.

Michael’s light weight on top of Ray is perfect, and Michael grinds down onto him. He works his hips adeptly, stroking Ray in one motion from base to tip and then back again in a move that’s as impressive as it is pleasure-inducing--and it’s Ray’s turn to moan up into the air.

“Fuck Michael,” he says, barely able to form words as Michael rolls his hips on top of him. “That’s fucking incredible.”

Michael chuckles deep in his throat and leans down to kiss Ray through a smile, their chests pressing together in warm contact. Ray’s hands find Michael’s hips as he thrusts harder into him and they breathe in unison for a moment.

As their pace quickens, Michael pushes himself back to sit on his knees--and the new angle must be stroking Michael’s prostate because his eyes go wide at the first stroke and he begins to pant with increased need. Ray watches as he spits into his hand and starts stroking himself, throwing his head back with a genuine look of pleasure.

Michael always looks his best in the moments before orgasm, Ray thinks, admiring Michael’s porcelain skin, flushed darker at his lips, at his groin, as he rocks into his own touch.

And as Ray feels his own orgasm building in his stomach, Michael’s muscles begin to tense, his knees squeezing Ray as he bucks into the air, huffing hard and coming streams across Ray’s chest. Michael sputters and pants, stroking himself through orgasm, his muscles squeezing around Ray.

“Oh fuck,” Ray chokes out, pawing around for purchase, grabbing Michael by the hips. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Michael smiles wide at Ray, looks down at him with sleepy eyes, before rocking his hips, impossibly smooth, impossibly fast, riding Ray into orgasm. Ray lets go of Michael, allows him to work, and Michael sets a perfect pace as Ray’s world explodes with release, deep and long with Michael working expertly on top of him.

The orgasm feels like it lasts for days, and when Ray comes back to himself, he realizes he’s been groaning Michael’s name, telling him not to stop, alternately cursing and praising him. He sighs now, though, and Michael must be able to feel that he’s spent because the other man comes to a stop, smiling down at Ray.

Still straddling him, Michael grabs Ray’s discarded shirt and gently swabs the mess he’d made across most of Ray’s torso. Ray laughs, squirming.

“That fucking tickles, Jesus,” Ray says. Michael smiles, lopsided, before throwing the shirt off the bed and slowly climbing off of Ray.

\---

Jack had come to deliver their mail, hesitating at Michael’s door before venturing a knock. He could hear the rhythm of two bodies on Michael’s squeaky bed springs through the door and, frowning, decided to give them both the day off.

He silently slid the mail under Michael’s door and held their calls.

 


End file.
